Sunday, October 22, 2006

I'm spreading out the Halloween this year. Went to a costume party last night and have another next weekend. The subject of Halloween came up when I was getting my hair cut on Friday by one of my new favorite people, Sica.

[After I left the salon the other night, in the time it took me to walk to the gas station next door to buy some smokes, a mini van had been haphazardly parked in the salon parking lot entrance, blocking everyone in. So I came around to the front of the Salon to investigate and see Sica sitting on the back of the couch of the front window, waving me in. Turns out the van driver wasn’t some asshole, but a police officer. Somehow I had not noticed that it was a police van and that a perp was on the ground getting handcuffed right in front of the salon].

Anyways, Sica and I were discussing our Halloween costumes. She is going as a knocked-up hillbilly zombie car crash victim. My costume will be revealed later in the story. She was saying how Halloween is often an excuse for women to dress as, how should I say it, skanks, basically. Normally if a woman is dressed in fishnets and a leotard, she just looks slutty. But add animal ears or fairy wings and suddenly it is a costume. (This is not to say I haven’t fallen prey to the same phenomenon. There was that one November 1st walk of shame into the San Francisco Police Dept wearing knee high boots after my friend's car was towed out of the Castro the night before). So I go to this party last night and sure enough every girl's costume was slutty_____. There were 2 slutty angels, 3 slutty devils, 2 Marilyns, 2 flappers and a slutty librarian. There were 2 slutty costumes at the party that I could really get behind, however. One was Paris Hilton (“post–rehab”). The other one? Well, she was wearing fishnets with garters, a mini skirt and a corset-- all black.

"So, what are you?""I'm slutty".

She came as slutty. Period. She didn't try to diminish her sluttiness under the guise of school girl or nurse. She was just straight up slutty, no bones about it. I can respect that.

Then there were the lesbians in the corner. We were a paired costume. My friend was wearing khakis, a blue button up Polo-brand shirt, and a necktie displaying a montage of the Lincoln memorial, Capital dome and American flags. I was wearing khakis, white button-up shirt with blue pin-stripes, blue blazer and a necktie displaying a montage of crosses, bible verses, 10 commandments and doves. If it weren’t for our props and name tags, we easily could’ve been dressed as Patriotic Dyke and Bible Salesman. But she was carrying a giz-soaked towel (Ok, it was Elmer’s glue) and I was carrying a can of Crisco. My name tag: Congressman Mark Foley. Her name tag: Anonymous Underage Page. If, like some of the idiots at the party last night, you have no clue what I’m talking about, please read the transcripts.

Side note: I somehow had the bright idea that I needed to bind my chest for a more authentic male look, as if I was going to a drag king competition and not just a Halloween party. But trying to keep my DD ta-tas under wraps really only resulted in looking like I was trying to smuggle contraband across the Iron Curtain, or perhaps concealing a bullet-proof vest.

In case you are wondering, the guys at the party, while not dressed like sluts, still fell victim to the “multiple party goers in the same-costume” problem. There were 4 pirates, 2 wizards, 2 Darth Mauls and 2 Jesuses (is there a plural for Jesus? I mean He is sorta one-of-a-kind). Although one Jesus was “Jesus H. Christ: Attorney at Law” with business cards to prove it. In addition to the long hair, crown of thorns and stigmata scars, he was wearing black dress pants with matching suit vest, white shirt and pocket watch. This led me to the conclusion that Jesus wasn’t just any Jew, but a Hasidic Jew.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

... another seemingly pointless and interminable film, Swimming Pool. Actually, Gosford Parkfeels like freakin' Terminator II compared to this one. At least in Godawful Park the viewer got to learn (way more than we ever cared to) about the social nuances of servants and guests interacting at an upscale dinner party. That and it stars Professor McGonagall. All we get in the first 35 minutes of Swimming Pool is a dowdy, uptight Englishwoman scarfing down more yoghurt than should be safe for any human to consume.

For reasons beyond my comprehension, CoryQ has become jerkytourniquet's #1 cyber-fan (It is easy to be #1 when there are so few). Some cyber-glitch wouldn't allow him to view anything but the background this morning so I received this:

In related news, apparently I like to create phrases that start with "cyber" and are hyphenated with some other word. Cyber-fan, cyber-glitch, cyber-biscuit.

Monday, October 09, 2006

My BFF and I went to Ikea (or Dykea, as we like to affectionately refer to it) tonight. Even though my SLIPAD Design D Crafoord/ U Vejbrink knives only cost $2.59, I still had to pay with a card. As I was signing the touch screen of one of those self-serve card swipey thingys, the palm of my right hand accidentally hit "Enter" before I was done. I informed the cashier, who jokingly told me that the machines were made for left handed people.

I joked back, saying, "Well that makes sense because all Swedish people are left handed."

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

I got a new cell phone that has a feature my previous phone did not. When creating a text message, not only does the phone have the auto-fill feature for common words (you know, you get as far as "H-a-p" and it suggests "Happy"), but it also remembers not-so-common words that I've used in previous messages. It is great for not always having to type my friends' names all the way through. But I went to text the word "special" recently, and I only made it to "sp" before my phone suggested "spanking."

I know why my RAZR did that. A few days prior I had texted my friend Sally from a club and said, "If you were here right now, I'd be spanking you on the dance floor." Which, face it, is probably true. My favorite dance is the fake spank, right above the "grab your shin and jerk your knee back and forth" dance. But for a moment I took pause and revelled in the notion that my phone thinks I'm some kinda dom goddess or something.